Long Way Down Series
by Vashti
Summary: Oz wasn't looking for a new home when he came over the rainbow, but now that he's here...
1. Untitled

**Title: **(Untitled)  
><strong>Series:<strong> Long Way Down  
><strong>Author:<strong> Vashti  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> BtVS/Tin Man  
><strong>Character(s):<strong> DG, Tutor, Jeb Cain, Oz  
><strong>Rating:<strong> G  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The Princess' companion smells funny to Tutor.  
><strong>Length:<strong> 200 words  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own nothing but the words, and that's probably up for philosophical debate.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Title ideas anyone? Because I'm out, except for things that are painfully cliched. This was original written for the tthdrabbles mod birthday challenge over on livejournal.

OooOZzzZZzzZOooO

Tutor sidled up to Jeb Cain, decked out in his regimental best. "You don't happen to know who's dancing with Princess DG, do you?"

"And hello to you, too," Jeb replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hi."

Jeb smiled. "He's the Slipper from over the rainbow . I'm surprised you haven't met him. He's been a guest of the Crown until they can figure out how to send him back."

"It's different coming over the rainbow," Tutor agreed. "But who is he?"

"Why do you want to know? You haven't been introduced?"

"I've been on a diplomatic mission to the Kingdom of Ix. I'm just back today. As to why..." Tutor took a deep breath, the gesture bringing his age to bear. "He smells like a shapeshifter."

"I didn't think know the Other Side had shapeshifters." Jeb grinned. "I wonder what breed of dog he is."

"Something big. Wild."

"Mastiff? Wolfdog?"

Tutor turned serious eyes on Jeb. "Bigger. Wilder"

"Than a Wolfdog?" As he was speaking, DG and the stranger twirled past. Laughing, the princess didn't notice them, but her companion did. He acknowledged them both with a sharp nod.

"How wild?" Jeb asked.

"Wolf."

"I'll find my father."

Fin[ite]


	2. I Don't Love You

**Title:** I Don't Love You (So Why Do I Compete With Other Guys)  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Azkadellia, DG, Wyatt Cain, Oz  
><strong>Rating:<strong> G  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Even Wyatt Cain can't stop the changes that have come several years after the Slipper came over the rainbow.  
><strong>Length:<strong> 200 words  
><strong>Notes:<strong> Title from "Long Way Down"by Pete Yorn. Still from the tthdrabbles mod birthday event.

ZzzZOooOOooOZzzZ

DG turned from the view beyond the gazebo to look up at her sister. "What could they be talking about all this time?"

Azkadellia shrugged. "Perhaps Mr. Cain is 'reading him the riot act', as you put it."

"But Dad did that already. Both my dads!"

"Yes, well, Mr. Cain was on the border for most of your courtship. It's his turn."

DG pulled a face. She and Azkadellia turned to the men again.

"Perhaps he's asking for Mr. Cain's permission."

"For my hand? What the heck for?"

DG didn't see the look Azkadellia shot her. A moment later, DG said, "Cain always calls him Daniel. Isn't that funny?"

"She know what you are?" Cain asked.

"Yes."

"If you ever-"

"I wouldn't."

"All right then," was the majority of the men's conversation. Mostly they'd collected and skipped rocks by the lake shore, silently weighing each against the other.

Later: "I was surprised you went to the border."

Cain chuffed. "Wouldn't have gone if I knew this would happen."

Oz turned and looked up at him. "You would have proposed if you'd stayed?"

"Maybe. Not a lot you could have done about it."

Oz's breathy laugh was his answer.

Fin[ite]


	3. As Long As You're There

**Title:** As Long As You're There  
><strong>Characters:<strong> DG, Oz  
><strong>Rating:<strong> G  
><strong>Length:<strong> 200 words  
><strong>Summary:<strong> DG wonders if Oz is having second thoughts.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> third in the Long Way Down series. title inspired by avamclean. furtherance of this series inspired by jedibuttercup.

OooOZzzZZzzZOooO

The travel storm dropped them off between a forest and meadow. "Okay?" Oz asked.

"Yeah."

He squeezed her hand. "Where do you think we are?"

DG worried her lip. "Dunno. Let me check the map."

Oz nodded, then turned to the green grass. Crouching, DG dug the map out of her pack, but couldn't concentrate to read it. She was watching Oz as he look out over the OZ, wondering if he was thinking about someplace else. They'd spent over a month backpacking the Other Side, meeting family and checking out hole-in-the-ground hometowns.

_"You guys liked to party."_

_Smiling, Oz said, "You should have seen graduation."_

DG hadn't wanted to show him much, just her own home and some friends. Nothing special. But for all that Oz was a singularity, he was deeply connected – some in need of another travel storm and updated passports.

"Verdict?"

Startled, DG fell back.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she said as Oz dropped beside her. "I wasn't really looking."

"Let me see?"

Nodding, she said, "Oz, is this okay? The OZ... Us... You're giving up a lot to marry a witch with a title you don't want."

"You okay here?"

"Usually."

"Then so am I."

Fin[ite]


	4. Papay Ate My Baby

**Title:** Papay Ate My Baby  
><strong>Characters:<strong> DG, Oz, Ahamo  
><strong>Rating:<strong> G  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Starting a musical revolution is okay with Oz, but the OZ has a scene he already likes.  
><strong>Length:<strong> 200 words  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I own nothing except the words, and that's probably up for philosophical debate.  
><strong>Notes:<strong> 4th (and last?) in the Long Way Down series. Also possibly the most disjointed of the lot :-/ still written for tthdrabbles.

ZzzZOooOOooOZzzZ

Oz appreciates sitting in on jam sessions with his dad and uncle more now than he did on the Other Side. What they had taught him about improv and sharing the stage and a willingness to experiment without knowing what the end result will be...

Oz jams for DG and the Consort sometimes. The Consort doesn't get it at first – until Oz re-tunes his guitar and takes "Purple Haze" out his back pocket.

OooOZzzZZzzZOooO

Alt-grung rock doesn't go far in the OZ. Starting a musical revolution is okay with Oz, but they have a scene he already likes.

The marching jazz bands here actually managed to keep their formation. Maybe because the Queen's idea of ballroom music usually involved extended solos, drum brushes, and horns that can talk.

Oz suggested that DG bring back a Cab Calloway box set from the Other Side and now big band is the thing in the court of the Queen.

ZzzZOooOOooOZzzZ

They decide to have a traditional jazz band for the wedding party. DG stands at the edge of the stage, still in her 1920s dress and Marcelle-waved hair, waving a lighter she got from someone from somewhere. No one gets it. But that's okay.

[in]Fin[ite]


	5. Porcelain

**Title:** Porcelain  
><strong>Characters:<strong> DG, Oz  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The last time DG went on a hunting party she didn't find anything. She's not hunting this time. This time, she already has what she's looking for.  
><strong>Length:<strong> ~760 words  
><strong>Notes:<strong> 5th in the Long Way Down series, this time written for twistedshorts August 2012 fic-a-day ficathon over on livejournal. Takes place between "As Long As You're There" and "Papay Ate My Baby"

OooOZzzZOooO

"So, we have a direction?" Oz asked, looking up from the map that he and DG had been studying. When she nodded, he tugged it out of her hands and began to fold. What had started as a brief stop to get themselves reoriented after being dropped off by DG's travel storm had turned into a late breakfast. It had been quiet, but not uncomfortable.

While they were eating DG had caught herself thinking of another man whose silences radiated presence. She'd smiled, remembering how different her last trip through the forests of the OZ with Wyatt Cain had been. There'd been more of them—her and Cain and Glitch-as-Ambrose, her sister and her parents and her robot parents, and Jeb Cain with a host of guards ghosting through the forest around them. Though it had ostensibly been a hunting expedition (that everyone had assured her would either be snagging dinner or releasing it back into the forest) they'd been making too much noise to snag anything except sunshine through the trees. Every now and again she'd catch the Tin Man's eye, and he'd shake his head at them all, exasperated and amused in turns.

Only a few days later Oz had come over the rainbow…or under it, really. His van was still parked in the garage with the other royal vehicles. Not long after that, Cain had accepted the outpost position on one of the OZ's more volatile borders. He'd be gone for long months that the short weeks of his return couldn't compensate for.

A hand broke into DG's thoughts. "Are you ready to go?"

Smiling, DG let Oz help her from the ground. It was always something of a shock experiencing the effortless strength that came from his being a werewolf. Standing, DG squeezed the hard, lean muscles of his upper arm.

"My, what big arms you have!" She knew the muscle had been formed from years of pulling taut bass strings and lifting amps as his own roadie, and not from being a werewolf—but she couldn't resist.

Oz pulled her close to his chest. "The better to hold you, my dear," he said into her ear.

She giggled as she wrapped her other arm around his neck, bringing herself closer.

"Are you sure you want to go right back to the castle?"

His words rumbled and moved against her stomach and chest, and though the answer she really wanted to give was 'No', she nodded. "Before Jeb sends out a search party."

"You don't want the Tin Men to find us in a compromising position?" His breath was warm against her jaw and ear, pushing her hair as he spoke.

"Don't tempt me."

"I think I already am."

DG chuckled, the sound coming from somewhere deep.

"Or maybe you're the one tempting me."

Laughing, DG pulled away from Oz, albeit reluctantly. There was a brief tightening in his arms, hinting at an additional strength his years as a musician couldn't account for, before he let her go. Mostly. His hand slid down her arm until his fingers caught in hers. Tangling them together, he brought their hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips.

DG blushed. "Oz, I already said yes."

"Every day. I want you to say yes every day." Every part of him—the lines of his face, the tension in his shoulders, his legs braced as if for an assault, his slow and even breathing, everything—spoke of his grave sincerity. It wasn't the first time he'd said something like this, though he tried to be less intense about it in public.

She nodded. "Only if you do."

Oz drew her near. "You have my permission to spike my dinner with silver if I don't."

DG burst into laughter, head thrown back, flinging terrified birds out of the trees and into the sky. Seeing them, DG grinned and said, "It's a good thing we're not going hunting."

"Haven't we already found what we were looking?"

Leaning over, she kissed her fiancé on the cheek. Together, they broke camp.

Fin[ite]


	6. Purple Prose

**Title:** Purple Prose  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Oz, Azkadellia  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Azkadella helps Oz find a gift for DG...but she's not entirely sure it's appropriate.  
><strong>Length:<strong> ~1470 words  
><strong>Notes:<strong> 6th in the Long Way Down series, this time written for twistedshorts August 2012 fic-a-day ficathon over on livejournal. Takes place between "As Long As You're There" and "Papay Ate My Baby".

ZzzZOooOZzzZ

"Is something the matter, Oz?"

Cracking a smile for his future sister-in-law, Oz turned toward Azkadellia as she approached him from the direction of the kitchen gardens. He levered himself up from his crouch and bowed.

As expected, the princess colored faintly. When he was feeling mischievous he'd doff his hat, whether or not he was actually wearing one, give her a deep, sweeping bow, and ask after Her Highness' health and well-being. Laughing and blushing to her roots, Azkadellia would ask him to stop being silly and to please stop bowing. When he was feeling particularly mischievous, he would proclaim that there was no way he could stand in the face of such grace, wisdom and beauty, and would refuse to rise until Azkadellia had to manhandle him out of the bow.

She knew it was a game, one that often had her chuckling if ever she caught Oz's eyes afterward. If not, Oz wouldn't tease her in that way, knowing how false deference still hurt her. What he always found sad, though, was that although she was all those things, grace and wisdom and beauty—she was absolutely her mother's daughter—but refused to believe it. So he didn't do it often. And today, though she seemed to be in good spirits, he was too distracted to do the game justice.

Quickly rising from his bow, Oz shrugged. "Can't find what I'm looking for."

"Oh, well, DG's at the shooting range," she said, briefly turning in that general direction. "I imagine it's archery today, instead of firearms. I don't hear anyone screaming for their lives."

"Hmm, you're probably right. But I'm not looking for Deeg."

Azkadellia's eyebrows rose. "Oh?"

"Not exactly." Turning away from her, Oz crouched in the dirt again, certain that his sister-in-law would follow.

Though, between the two of them, Azkadellia was certainly the more proper sister, eschewing her place in the royal line seemed to have freed her from the stiffness of knowing the right thing to do now that she no longer had to do it. _No one cares what The Other Princess does,_ she'd said to him one day not long after giving up the crown. He'd caught her reading in the crook of a tree, the slipper of her left foot dangling from her toes. Lip curling in a way he'd only seen in pictures, she'd added, _So long as she doesn't twitch her fingers at them._

Azkadellia dropped down beside him, her skirts ballooning up before settling in a rich green puddle. "What are we looking at, and what does this have to do with DG?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Pardon?"

"We're looking at nothing."

Eyeing him, Azkadellia quirked a brow. "I'm sorry Oz, perhaps this is an Other Side thing, but I don't understand."

"It is and it isn't. Before we left for the Other Side, there were hyacinths coming up in this spot."

Azkadellia nodded. "Yes. This is where the gardeners plant them every year. It's their place."

"Right. And by the time we were coming back home they were just blooming."

"That sounds lovely. Hyacinths really do have the best scent. That's why they're planted here, you know, so that the royal family might be able to smell them from their rooms."

Oz bobbed his head. "That explains it."

"Explains what, Oz?"

He turned to his almost-sister-in-law. "Sorry, Az. DG spent the entire trip trying to figure out what that really nice flower smell was that she was used to waking up to. Then we sniffed some on the way home, found the name and… no flower smell when we actually got back."

"Oh." Azkadellia smiled softly. "Poor Deeg. Are you trying to find them for her?"

He cracked a smile. "Basically."

"You're a sweetheart, Oz."

He shrugged. "Only if I find these flowers."

"Well, they're out of season now. I suppose the palace is either in a different temperate zone than wherever it was you left from, or time was simply flowing at a different rate between your departure and return."

Oz's smile grew. Only in the OZ did that sentence make sense. "So it's a lost cause."

"Not entirely. I believe the head gardener grows some in the greenhouses."

"Really?"

"I couldn't be sure as I've always had a brown thumb, but it's possible. It might be a nice escape for you and Deeg."

"Actually I was planning on having cut flowers brought to her room."

Horror crossed Azkadellia's face. "Hyacinths? You want to cut hyacinths?"

"Um, yeah?"

"Whatever for?" Azkadellia's horror seemed to be growing, but Oz couldn't understand why.

"To put them in DG's room."

"Where she can touch them?"

"If she wants, but mostly I was hoping she'd smell them."

Expression going from horror to deep consternation, Azkadellia frowned. "I suppose that's not so bad."

Brows drawn, Oz gave her a quizzical look. "I've seen cut flowers all over the palace. What's with the hyacinth reaction?"

"You don't know?"

"Are they the royal symbol of the OZ."

"Never!"

Oz blinked. "Oookay."

Looking a bit ill, Azkadellia offered to show him to the greenhouse. "Have you been?"

"Not yet."

OooOZzzZOooO

"You wants to do what?"

The Head Gardener had been civil to them both when they showed up at his glass door. Whether this was because they were both below his notice or because of the princess' known brown thumb, Oz couldn't tell, but the moment Azkadellia mentioned the cut hyacinths for DG he was completely in her corner.

Azkadellia repeated Oz's request. The older man shook his head. "To the back. With the rest."

"Thank you, sir."

He touched the brim of a hat that had seen better days. "Pleasure's mine, Your Highnesses."

Coloring, Azkadellia glanced at Oz. He shrugged. He wasn't exactly comfortable with the title, either, but it didn't mean much to him one way or the other. DG was important. The title... It was a title.

In the muggy warmth of the greenhouse, the thick scent of hyacinths reached them long before they found the flowers. "How far back did he say?" Oz asked.

Azkadellia glanced back. "He didn't." And they kept going. When they passed something she recognized, she pointed it out to him, but the walk was warm and silent otherwise. Oz's eyes darted around. The further back they went, the more sinister the plants seemed to become. And the hyacinths were back here?

"It's almost overpowering, isn't it?" Azkadellia said as they got closer.

Oz nodded. "I think I see them," he murmured. Amongst all the dark greens, grim blacks, and almost flesh-tone shades of pink, the bright purple heads of nodding hyacinths shown like a beacon. "How many do you think it'll take to fill DG's room?"

"With hyacinth flowers?" Azkadellia's eyes were wide.

"Just scent."

She shook herself. "I don't know...three heads? Maybe four?"

"And the gardener won't mind?"

"They're for the royal family and you're as good as family. But won't you at least reconsider?" she said as Oz stepped past her.

Tossing a smile over his shoulder, he searched for and found a pair of sheers. "I really don't understand why you're freaking out, Az. They're just flowers." He approached the table with the blooming, potted stems. "DG and I had our faces in them on the Other-"

"NO!"

Azkadellia lunged for Oz, sparing his face—but his arms, braced on the side of the table, weren't so lucky. "What the-"

"Oh, Oz! Let me find some pliers!"

ZzzZOooOZzzZ

"Mmm, Oz, do you smell that? So good!" DG squeezed Oz's arm as they made their way to her room. "Where is that coming from? And how can I steal it from them? You'll help me, right?"

"No, sorry."

"What?"

They stopped in front of her door. "I already stole it once. I don't want to have to go through that again."

A smile blossoming, she turned to him. "You stole for me."

"No big. It just cost me some blood cells."

"Really?" Oz pushed up one of his sleeves to show off his scars. Which had mostly healed. DG gave him a look. "Oh yes, poor baby. I feel so bad for you."

He kissed her cheek, then pushed the door open for her. Sitting on a small table not 3 feet from her oversized doors was a vase with four, full-bloom hyacinth stems.

"Oh Oz!" DG threw her arms around him then pulled away. "They're gorgeous! How did you get them to be purple and red?"

"I fed them."

"Thank you!" She threw her arms around him again, kissing his cheek hard enough to bruise— "Omigosh, that _smell!_"—before dashing into the room.

"DG! NO!"

Fin[ite]


	7. Snow Day

**Title:** Snow Day  
><strong>Characters:<strong> DG, Oz  
><strong>Rating:<strong> g  
><strong>Summary:<strong> DG and Oz argue. Sorta. It's hard to argue with a force of nature  
><strong>Length:<strong> ~1470 words  
><strong>Notes:<strong> 7th and last (?) in the Long Way Down series, this time written for twistedshorts August 2012 fic-a-day ficathon over on livejournal. Takes place after "Papay Ate My Baby".

OooOZzzZOooO

"Do you seriously want to call her Snow?" Exhausted but not sleepy, DG watched Oz walk the floor of her private bedroom with their daughter cradled in his arms through the thick fringe of her eyelashes. She couldn't remember seeing anything more touching…or hearing anything more goofy. "Think of the Snow White comparisons."

Oz glanced up at her. "Only to you, me and your dad."

"And the family pediatrician, and that fabric guy whose shop Az likes, oh and…" She yawned, though still not at all tired. "…I'm almost sure one of the stable-hands is a Slipper. Or maybe it was one of the mechanics. I can't remember."

"Gardener."

"Really?"

"And a mechanic."

"See. That's way too many people who are going to think 'Snow White' whenever they hear Baby Girl Osborne's name."

"Gale."

DG pushed herself up on her elbows. "Look, Oz, I don't care how cool and mysterious you were on the Other Side, we are not name our kid Gale Gale. That's just wrong. Bad enough I'm Dorothigale…Gale."

Smiling, Oz returned to her bedside. DG scooted over (quite unnecessarily as she was near the center of the very large bed) as he settled beside her. "I mean she's Baby Girl Gale. Not 'Osborne'. I took your name, remember?"

Flopping back into her the rather impressive mound of pillows her mother and sister and several nursemaids had heaped behind her, DG frowned up at the canopy overhead. "Oh. Right, I forgot."

"S'okay."

"Sometimes I forget I'm a princess." She reached across the space between them to stroke Oz's bare arm. She was cold now, but the room had been sweltering hot not so long ago. "You're a big part of that. Helping me forget. Thank you."

Careful of their daughter, he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. He toed off his shoes, then climbed fully onto the bed. When he was close enough, DG ran a finger over her daughter's tiny, delicate features where they peaked out of her tight swaddling. She sighed. "So beautiful."

Oz kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes, briefly engulfed in the warmth of the people who now meant most to her.

"What color do you think her eyes will be?" Oz asked when they parted.

"Good question. Maybe hazel, since you're blue and I'm green."

"Maybe."

"I am kinda sad she won't have your red hair." Her mother had confirmed early in the pregnancy that there were very few Gale redheads, and none of them were immediate family.

Oz shrugged. "I hardly ever have red hair myself. She'll never notice."

DG grinned. "I love you. So much. You and our ghost-white kid. Jeez, she didn't have to inherit _that_ from both of us." A childish moue puckering her lips, she traced the fine veins visible under her daughter's translucent skin with careful fingertips.

"Some people would say that's a good thing."

"Some people have never gotten sunburn walking from the house to their car."

Oz chuckled. "Give her time. She's never seen the sun before."

"She hasn't yet, has she? Oz, open the blinds. I want to show my daughter the suns."

Tucking their child against DG's side, Oz slipped off the bed and padded to the windows.

"Hey there, pretty little baby. How do you like the name, Nora, hmm? Nora Snow Gale." She smirked. "Makes you sound like a force of nature, kiddo." DG pressed her nose close to her daughter's head, covered though it was in a cap Azkadellia had knit for her, and watched her husband as if she'd never seen him before.

DG closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, Snow shifting in her swaddling. When she opened them, Oz was settling in beside them again. "She is a force of nature," he said softly. A smile pulled at his lips as he cradled DG's cheek in his palm. "So are you."

Fin[ite]


End file.
